Ashes and Dust
by belia
Summary: Left to the ashes, former Death Eater Draco Malfoy finds redeemption in the last place he would expect: Hermione Granger. An after-war story. Of darkness, angst and hope.
1. Remnants and Ruins

Ashes and Dust : Chapter 1 : Remnants and Ruins

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy or whoever else you'll find it fun to sue me for. It's not that fun, I assure you. 

**A/N: **The Draco/Hermione fic I thought up a couple of days ago. It'll only be a few chapters, but we'll se how we go. 

It's a pretty dark and moody fic, and rating is PG-13 for some swearing every now and then. It's set about at the end of their seventh year, when the Wizarding World basically just finished a devastating war.

Please read and review! 

**Warning: There MAY be spoilers in future chapters. But not here in this chapter. This chapter is spoiler-free, so read on! **

***

Draco Malfoy walked among ruins. Ruins that could barely be identifiable as Hogwarts. He noticed a tower and some poorly repaired buildings in the distance, perhaps all that was left of what he once had known as his second home. 

_What had happened to this place? _

He didn't notice the walls had fallen when he had had his wand out, firing curses and spells left and right. He didn't see the explosions as he had dodged the flasks of deadly potions. Torn, broken and ripping at the seams. Scorch marks, still smoking rubble where what once was probably a classroom. _And how many dead? _He wondered. _How many lost their lives on the very ground he was walking on?_

_How many did he kill?_

Draco took two steps and retched. He threw up as the faces of nameless victims rose from a sea of blood in his mind. _Bodies. So many bodies. Lifeless, eagle-sprawled, dead. Dead! He choked, and sat down with a sudden force. _What was left of the Wizarding World now that we were fighting each other? Muggles would've called_ _it a Civil War. We had always called it brutality. And here we are. We killed ourselves. We're bringing ourselves into extinction. How are we any different to them?__

"Malfoy, is that you?" 

Draco looked up, and saw a figure walk towards him. "No. It isn't." He made himself say. His voice croaked, hoarse from the pain and tears. 

"My name's Hermione. Are you hurt?"

The person was getting closer and by now, even Draco knew for sure it was Granger. Who else had the name Hermione? _Shit. He brought his sleeve up and wiped his face, but it only served to dirty it further. His hair was no longer the slick blond, but the brown of dirt and maybe even the red of blood. _

"No." He answered. Then: "Fuck off Granger."

Hermione was close enough. Only a few meters, and though her own face was still blanketed by shadow, she could see the boy as plain as day. And there was no mistaking that sneer. 

"So it is you, Malfoy."

"Granger. So you're not dead yet. I always thought they would've killed off all you Mudbloods first."

The girl stiffened, but moved forward and sat down of what looked like the remains of a teacher's desk. Her eyes, Draco noticed, were unmoving and expressionless, which was exactly how he felt. Her hair was shorter, unlike the bushy mass it had been 'til fifth year, but tied up in what Muggles called a ponytail. Her Head Girl badge was gone, and her hands were red.

"Even you know that's not true. They didn't have any target. Whoever wasn't with them, they destroyed. We fought. All of us."

Draco felt a bubbling guilt he didn't remember. 

"Not me." He said suddenly, jumping up. His voice was deadly. "I was ready to run."

"We all were."

"No!" He looked fiercely at her, and his voice pierced the silence around them. "It was different. If I could have, I would have. I was ready to run."

"But you didn't. And we all were." 

Hermione looked at Draco, and the look in her eyes made him sit back down.  

"We fought. But we didn't want to. You think we wanted this?" Her voice cracked, and she gestured around her. "No. We didn't. You think you were the only one who was afraid? Well, you're not so special, Malfoy." 

Draco was quiet, and Hermione continued.

"Do you know many people died? Do you know how many people I know are lying here? How many Muggles died as well? Too many, Malfoy. Too many."

"My fa – Lucius died here."   

"Yes. I know. He was in the first attack."

"I fought him. I helped kill him."

Hermione fell silent, but Draco knew it wasn't pity she was feeling, for him or for Lucius. 

"What about Potter?" Draco said quietly. 

Everyone had known Harry Potter had been the most important. Everyone had known that it the future itself had been laid in his hands. Everyone had known that he had been the one to protect, that he was the key. But no one knew if he was still alive. 

"We don't know. We haven't found his body." Hermione felt sick. She couldn't believe she was talking about Harry like this. "Or his wand. But if his dead, then –  "

"Voldermort's alive." Draco finished. 

"And we haven't found him either."

"We?"

"What did you think Malfoy? That you and I were the only survivors?"

"Well…no."

"Many died here, Draco. And more in other places. Hogsmeade, Diagon Alley, Wizard-inhabited places. But many survived as well. Some of us are still waiting, although most of us have nothing to wait for. I was lucky."

"Because you're not dead?"

Hermione glared daggers at Malfoy and shook her head furiously. "You think dying's the worst that can happen, Draco? Then you don't want to see some of those that have recovered. We don't have a certified nurse anymore. Bruises are easy to heal, but burnings are not. Some of the survivors are paraplegics or deaf or blind. There are enough of them to show you what war can do."

Draco didn't move, but he closed his eyes. He knew what type of 'burning' Granger had meant. He knew because he was guilty of acts similar. Torture with fire. But torture of Muggles and Muggleborns had turned to torture of any wizard against their cause.  

"I should be in Azkaban."

Hermione shook her head again. "Azkaban is nothing anymore. It's worst than this."

Draco looked up, confusion betraying his emotionless tone. "So what did Aurors do with the followers?"

"Killed them. They were given power to kill Death Eaters on sight. It was slaughter on both sides, and you can't be imprisoned for murdering in a war. War is murder in itself." Hermione looked down at the ground, then back at Draco.

"So there's nothing left for me. Never was." He glared at her with annoyance. "Just go away Granger. Let me be alone."

Hermione didn't react at all. "Now we're just waiting."

"For what?" Draco sneered, though the essence of it had disappeared. The malice was gone and it was just an empty expression like those on the faces of the dead. 

"For an answer."

Draco felt his heart freeze, though he knew many would say it was already made of ice already. He knew what came next, and he knew it was true.

"Though there's no one left to reply." He finished.

Hermione nodded, and felt the tears rise, though unwilling to fall. She looked down, and blinked once. The droplets fell, splashing against the dust. The remnants of a once magnificent and noble school. 

"An answer, Draco. A reason to keep going. Some of us have hope, but most of us are just waiting for a chance for it to finish. We're just waiting for end's end."

***

Was that okay? I know it's slightly confusing, but let me know what you think by clicking on the little thing below that let's you review my story. Pretty please?


	2. Survivors of Suffering

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Ashes and Dust: Chapter 2 : Survivors and Suffering

Disclaimer: I don't own, JK Rowling does. Don't sue me, sue one of the other hundred thousand fanfic-writers out there. =P 

A/N: This chapter was written rather quickly, and it's not bad and it's not all that good. But please read and tell me what you think. Apologies for anyone who finds this confusing, but I have already promised to explain most, if not all, the war next chapter.

***

Hermione wiped her palms on her ripped robe and reached out to Malfoy. He took it, and she pulled him up. Hands clasped for moment, they stood silent, a sign of forgiveness perhaps. Hermione let go, and moved her hand to lay on his shoulder. 

"I was down here looking for survivors. I didn't find many. Some were doomed to die. To put them out of their misery…" She trailed off. "The rest of us are in the old Hospital Wing."

"How many?"

Hermione smiled sadly, a memory of a once bright and eager student, a girl now changed by war. "Not enough."

"Who?"

"A handful of fifth, sixth and seventh years left. Most of the younger students escaped. Some Aurors. Flitwick. Snape. Some others... probably more. Probably."

"Who's missing?"

Hermione couldn't look him in the eye, and took to staring at the now black sky. There wasn't even a star to shine down of times like these. 

"Harry. Dumbledore. McGonagall. More teachers. More Aurors. Most of the older students are confirmed dead."

She felt hollow and weak as the words came out. It was like the weight of it had hit her, not with brutal force, but with the force of a strong gust of wind that lifted you up and dropped you, letting you hit the ground. Hermione had never really thought about her reactions, let alone the fact that they could've been delayed. _But now. So many are gone. So many are never coming back. Gone._ She wavered, and Draco reached out instinctively to steady her. 

Hermione breathed deep. "Thanks."

"You ok?"

"I hope so."

She took from her pocket a stopwatch, and from her sleeve a wand. A few words and a wave was all it took.

"Touch it."

"A Portkey?"

Hermione's nodding face swirled into a mix of green and black as the hook in his navel tugged hard. A moment later, they were standing at the door of the Hospital Wing. Amazingly, Draco noticed, all four walls were intact, something you couldn't say for many rooms. 

"Two more students have been found in the Dungeons." Someone was saying. 

Draco and Hermione turned the corner to see a black-haired Nymphadora Tonks standing beside Remus Lupin. They were helping a sixth-year on a patient bad beside an already batted and beaten…

"RON!" 

Hermione had run forward, pushing Lupin out of the way to her friend. She buried her head into his shoulder, and Draco saw that her body was racking with tears. He looked at Weasley, and felt… well, admiration for the boy. They had fought alongside in the final battle, and Weasley was to be taken seriously. To see him cut, broken, bruised in such a way that almost made him unrecognizable made the guilt swell up again. Sure, he hadn't done this to Weasley, but he had done this to other people. Other victims. 

"Are you hurt?" 

Lupin was talking to him. 

"No. No, not seriously," Draco answered, not taking his eyes off Granger and Weasley. 

"Well, you've got to leave them. All we can do let them heal naturally, and magic will be of no help when we don't know if their injuries are magical or not. Miss Granger. Miss – Hermione. Please."

He finally pried the girl off Ron Weasley and shut the white curtain. Hermione wiped her eyes, and turned only to see more faces of grief, pain and loss. More patients, mostly in makeshift beds, as the Hospital had not been ready for such a need of medical services. In fact, no one had been ready. Those who saw them looked at the curiously, only to have that expression replaced with hatred when they saw Malfoy.

"Draco Malfoy."

Both Hermione and Draco turned to see one Severus Snape leaning against the door's archway. They couldn't tell if he was injured, as everything except his face seemed to be concealed by his black robes. His expression was a mix of a grim look, and his permanent scowl. 

"Sir." Draco replied respectfully. 

There was a short moment of silence, in which Snape seemed to study the both of them, especially Draco. 

"Congratulations." He finally said.

"For what?"

"For surviving."

Draco felt Hermione jerk suddenly. "Don't say that!" She cried. "Do you know how many we could have saved if we had been prepared?"

"Yes. Yes, I do."

"Then tell me why we weren't?!" She exclaimed, outraged at the apathy he was showing. 

Draco touched her arm, and she flinched. 

"Let it go." He was saying.

"Don't." She whispered fiercely. "Just don't."

Draco realized her eyes were shining with what he recognized as tears, but she turned to face them anyway. 

"We can't blame it all on them… THEM! It's our fault too. It's our fault there are bodies out there that are mangled and tortured beyond recognition. There are no congratulations, Professor. There's nothing anymore. And I can't just let that go, Draco. How can you – how can ANYONE just let that go? You can't okay?! You can't." 

Hermione fled. And Draco found himself following her. 

*

She ran, and he ran after her. This was a girl he had hated, mocked, for over six years, but now he was feeling a pain for her he had never knew he had inside of him. He suddenly realized how it was that emotions had always been so easy for him. They had always been so straightforward, so simple to read, and to understand. 

Hate. Indifference. Dislike. And the occasional pride. 

__

Was this because I was a Slytherin? Or was it because I was a Malfoy? A pureblood? Why did it matter so much? Why had it mattered so much? I knew it didn't matter now, now that most of the purebloods were gone. Killed for their allegiance to Voldermort. Like my father. Like I should be. All these years, all I had been taught was that Voldermort was God, and the deaths of, the riddance of Mudbloods and Muggles were God's will. We were only disciples, followers. Who were we to oppose him?

Hermione slowed to a stop, panting softly. He stopped too.

"Where are you running to?"

"Away from this. All this." 

"We can't leave them. There still might be survivors."

"No. They're all dead."

"You don't know that."

"Yes I do."

She moved to turn, but Draco grabbed her arm. "Don't run again, Granger."

The girl looked at him, half curious, half angry. She twisted her arm free, but she didn't move. "I don't want to stay here. I've got to get away." Her voice shook violently.

"Then we'll go. We'll walk."

Hermione looked at him, the same mask of curiousity. She nodded slowly. "Why are you still here Malfoy? I mean, why have _you_ not run yet, so to speak?"

He paused, searching for the right answer. "Run? There's nothing to run from."

But Hermione didn't believe him. Even as they walked in silence towards the direction of the mountains, the wheels in her head we turning. "I get it."

"Get what?"

"You want answers, don't you? You want to know what happened afterwards."

It was Draco's turn to glare at Hermione, but he too, gave in and nodded in the end.

They stepped quietly, but it seemed strangely loud anyway in the eerily silent graveyard or figures. Eventually they moved further and further until you couldn't see the bodies anymore because of the distance and dim light. Reaching the each of the lake, Hermione sat, to which Draco followed suit. The squid once known to have existed there had either left or was dead, Draco mused. 

"So you want to know what happened during and afterwards," Hermione repeated softly.

Draco nodded again, but she wasn't even looking at him. She was looking at the shimmering half moon in the empty sky. Her next words surprised him.

"All you had to do was ask. I'll tell you what I know." 

***

Well? How was the chapter? It's slow, I guess, but next chapter does a whole lot of explaining about the war. I don't think there will be flashbacks though, just recounting in the form of them talking. Unless anyone thinks it would be better. I'm not really sure. 

Anyhow, please review! And thanks to everyone who reviewed the 1st chapter!


	3. A Death Eater's Confessions

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Ashes and Dust : Chapter 3 : Conversations and Confessions 

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, so don't sue me. It really isn't worth it.

****

A/N: This chapter is slightly shorter, but it explains more than previous ones. Just conversations between Hermione and Draco.

***

"Why didn't they capture the Death Eaters? Who gave the Aurors the power to incapacitate?"

Hermione let her eyes fall from the sky, and they locked with Draco's. Silver grey spoke of fear and loss. Brown was hard, emotionless.

"The Ministry. Once they had found that Voldermort was attacking in public areas, they allowed the Aurors to kill the enemy."

Draco nodded. He had seen many of his friends – or former friends – submit to the Aurors. He had seen even more die at their wands. 

"How long have you been a Death Eater?"

Draco looked up, surprised. Hermione's question held no curiousity, and he shifted his position on the grass. He pulled up his left sleeve, brandishing the Dark Mark. It was faded and bruised, but it was there nonetheless.

"Middle of seventh year."

"So they were recruiting under eighteen's?"

"Yeah." He pulled the sleeve back down.

"Do you know how many were from our school?"

"Approximations. Most of the students were from Durmstrang. A few from Hogwarts. We were to help plan the attack on the schools."

"Did you?"

Draco didn't answer for a moment. He debated inside. The seconds ticked by. "Yes," He finally said. "It helped that I was a Prefect."

Hermione nodded and didn't say anymore. So Draco took the chance.

"Who was fighting when we… when the Death Eaters attacked?"

The girl bit her lip, and a sad smile formed. "Together, we would have outnumbered the Death Eaters, but because of the Ministry…" She trailed off. "Most of those missing were those fighting. Many of the younger students were given Port Keys to Muggle areas. We were lucky Voldermort knew it was foolish to attack public places."

"Public _Muggle_ places."

"Mmm."

There was another pause. A comfortable silence. Draco sighed, looking around them. Wondering what had happened to everyone. How so many wizards could just go 'missing'.

"Malfoy? Why did you switch sides?"

"Did I?"

"Yes, you did. Why did you betray the Death Eaters? Why did you kill Lucius?"

Draco tried to sneer, but he couldn't. This was Lucius they were talking about. His father. In the middle of the battle, he had turned his wand on his own father. How he had escaped, he still didn't know. Draco leaned backwards, so that he was lying on his back. At least now he didn't have to look at her eyes when he was talking. 

"I'm not sure." He finally confessed. "You know? When you feel like everything in your life has been planned out for you, when everything you know is a just there, laid out for you. That's okay. But imagine the life planned for you involved killing anything, everything that got in your way. Friends. Family. People I know. Knew."

"I thought being a Death Eater means accepting all that." Hermione leaned against her knees, huddled into a ball. All this talk felt like a cold wind blowing. 

"Accepting what? Killing their own families?" Draco sighed again. "I guess some people do. I was there because I was a Malfoy. My father was there, and he signed my life to Voldermort."

Hermione was shocked, though Draco couldn't see it. She turned to face him. "You mean you didn't want to be a Death Eater?"

Draco turned his eyes to her. "I never said that."

"Then what did you say?"

"I am a Malfoy. Malfoy's were always committed followers of Voldermort. Still are."

"Voldermort's dead."

"You don't know that."

"Well I believe it." Hermione said firmly. Then she shivered. "So why did you kill your father?" 

He eyed her. "Are you cold?" Pulling his cloak from underneath him, he handed it to Hermione. "Here."

She took it. "Thanks." Then added: "You're avoiding the subject."

"I know." He sighed again. "I killed him because it meant I didn't have to follow his anymore. If he died, his allegiance to Voldermort died with him. And so did mine."

"So you never meant to help us. Just to break the bond with Voldermort."

"Breaking the bond with Voldermort immediately means I joined the other side. The enemy of my enemy…" 

"…is my friend." Hermione finished. 

"Yeah."

"Why."

Draco sat up. "Why what?"

"Why did Voldermort move to attacking _all_ wizards, and not just Muggleborns or Muggles?"

"Attacking Muggles could expose them. And there aren't enough Dark wizards to deliver an attack on all the Muggles. There are too many."

"Muggleborns?" 

"And Muggle Lovers supposedly. Everyone is given a chance in their life to be a Death Eater. Over the last two years Voldermort had doubled its army. Tripled it with Dementors and students. You were either with them or against them."

Hermione nodded. It was true. Anyone without the Dark Mark on their arm was hunted down and destroyed. All they could have done was attack back. 

"Malfoy? So why did you stay here?"

"Where else is there to go? Beyond these boarders Aurors are waiting. Anywhere the Aurors haven't reached, the Death Eaters are banded."

Again, Hermione nodded. It was like comforting words had long since dried up. Draco crossed his legs, looking out across the lake. The moon was huge, half a silver beach ball suspended in mid-air. The reflection of it in the water showed it more beautiful than in real life, and Draco picked a stone and threw it at it. It slipped into the glowing moon. 

"At least we're not alone." He finally said. 

"No," Hermione whispered back. "At least we're not alone." 

***

Please review. And I realize this is turning into a rather depressing fic, but I like it a lot despite. Oh well. =P


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